


Forget About It (Fuck It Out)

by minbins



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (No Actual Exhibitionism), Anal Sex, Begging, Embarrassment Kink, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Fantasised Exhibitionism, Jisung is overwhelmed by work and Minho helps him out, M/M, Mild Degradation, No Uncomfortable Power Dynamics - They Are Equals In Their Relationship, Office Sex, Praise, Secretary Jeongin (Mentioned), Section Chief Lee Minho | Lee Know, Sex to Destress, Vice Chairman Han Jisung | Han, d/s dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26613931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minbins/pseuds/minbins
Summary: “Tell me, hyung… Has my Section Chief Lee ever thought about bending the Vice Chairman over his desk?”
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 24
Kudos: 620





	Forget About It (Fuck It Out)

**Author's Note:**

> While the plot is not at all based on the show, I did imagine Jisung's office to look the same as / similar to Vice Chairman Lee Youngjoon's from the drama 'What's Wrong With Secretary Kim', so if you're familiar with it that's the visual. 
> 
> **Important Note:** while minho is jisung's subordinate at work, they have been dating far prior to jisung gaining the vice chairman post, and this is NOT an instance of jisung abusing a position of power. everything is completely consensual.

Today is just _one of those days._

The work ahead of Jisung seems unrelenting, and he can feel the beginnings of a migraine thrumming behind his temples. He understands that such acquisitions are incredibly important for his company, sure, but does not appreciate having to deal with three separate Very Important™ ones simultaneously. It's a monumental ball ache, if Jisung is to be crude about it, regardless of whether the timing is accidental or not. Life just seems to be that way. One moment everything is going fine, and then two projects get advanced by several months, both now coinciding with _another_ project, and Jisung is left with a big ol' mess to sort out.

He is the youngest Vice Chairman in the country, and it comes with as much scrutiny as it does prestige. If he makes the slightest slip-up, Jisung will have the eyes of the world on him with far more severity than is dealt to the stuffy old businessmen who happen to have more experience. Their experience doesn’t make them _better._ It just means they have more connections, and can get away with a lot because of such beneficial friendships. Jisung hates the hypocrisy of their criticisms of his work in contrast with what the lot of them do behind closed doors. All he can do is strive to outshine them.

And yet Jisung is _tired,_ and has had quite enough of this day already. Though he probably won’t be able to go home until at least 11pm, when the company will be near empty except for those who refuse to go home before him and the cleaning staff, his lunch break can at least be… 

_Productive._

Jisung has had an idea. A good one, if all goes well, that will certainly increase his work efficiency. He presses the intercom button in front of him, the one connected to a twin receiver on his personal secretary’s desk outside. “Secretary Yang, please cancel my lunch reservations and send Section Chief Lee to my office at his earliest convenience. I need to discuss some of the financial proposals in private. Please make sure that we are not interrupted, and remind anyone that attempts to that there will be _severe_ consequences for doing so.”

There is a pause, and Jisung can see Secretary Yang through the windows by his door, hurriedly noting down Jisung’s instructions lest he forget anything. “I’ll be right on that, Vice Chairman!” he enthuses, and Jisung smiles at the endearing peppiness as Secretary Yang hurries away to fetch Section Chief Lee. 

With a calm, practiced air, Jisung begins to clear away his paperwork. He keeps it sectioned off meticulously, so that the individual tasks will be easy to return to after Jisung’s lunch break, and tucks them away into the file dividers built into his expensive desk. There’s an ink well that he uses for official stamps, and he moves that into a drawer, too. It wouldn’t do for it to fall and smash, were something or _someone_ to be pushed against it. The stains on anything such a mess touched upon would be damn near impossible to clean. Finally, Jisung shuts down his laptop, putting it first into its heavy duty protective case, and then away into his leather business satchel. 

With the remote he keeps in his pocket while in his office, Jisung closes the electrically operated blinds over the glass sections of his front wall, shutting off the room completely from the rest of the building. The windows are tinted, so he need not worry about drawing the curtains. His hands fall to his lap, and he tries his best not to fidget. Secretary Yang’s desk now obscured, for the sake of them both, Jisung sits and waits. 

Soon enough, there comes a sharp rapping at his door. Section Chief Lee steps in shortly, though only after Jisung has loudly called him in. He always holds onto formalities at work, though Jisung is really hoping that he’ll let go of that _just this once._ With some confusion, Section Chief Lee — Minho, as Jisung knows him, really — turns to the closed blinds. “Are financial proposals really so confidential, Vice Chairman?” Minho asks. “I’d understand if you were the type to sequester away slush funds, but I know you’re quite honest, all things considered.”

“You flatter me, hyung,” Jisung replies. At the unexpected variety of honorific, Minho’s eyes widen. For good reason — they’re usually careful not to mix business with, _well…_ Regardless, Jisung bats his eyes prettily. _“Hyuuung,”_ he whines, sounding downright needy already. Minho tilts his head, visibly disorientated by Jisung’s switch from Vice Chairman Han mode to _this_ while still at work. At a busy time like now, no less. “Did you know that my office is sound-proof?”

“Yes,” Minho replies. He still sounds completely entrenched in his work persona. “You had it built that way when we moved into the new building, because you talk through business plans out loud and we didn’t want anyone overhearing you.”

Well. Not quite the conversational direction Jisung was angling for, but he’s worked off worse prompts before. “So _attentive,_ hyung,” he purrs. “You really do remember everything I tell you, huh?”

Minho places down the documents he’s carried into the office on the coffee table next to Jisung’s couch. _“Vice Chairman,”_ he emphasises, as if to remind Jisung where they are, as well as subtly chiding him for his lack of propriety. “The financial statements, as requested. Might I suggest that we get started on them?”

“Have a seat hyung.” Minho does as requested. Jisung walks all the way across the room, over to the office door, and locks it. Then, he goes right to Minho, and plops himself down unceremoniously in his lap. “Hi.”

It’s not an unfamiliar set-up for either of them. They have been dating for almost ten years, after all. Long before Jisung’s Vice Chairman title was a twinkle in his father’s eye. The comfort of such closeness from his boyfriend is already helping the tension ebb from Jisung’s body. He wouldn’t usually put either of them in such a position, but he has been careful and he _needs him._ The work has him close to tears from built up frustration, and it would be one hell of a buzzkill for Jisung’s employees to see him break down mid meeting. 

“Jisung,” Minho sighs. He’s letting go of the _Vice Chairman_ title for a moment, at least. That's something. “What are you doing?”

“I’m _stressed,”_ Jisung pouts, employing the wide eyes that often work on his boyfriend. Minho stays annoyingly steadfast. His hands rest on Jisung’s hips to steady him, but no more. “You _know_ what fixes me the most when I'm stressed, hyung… Help me out? Please?”

“I can ‘help you out’ when we’re at _home,_ Jisung,” Minho counters. “This isn’t the place for that. You know we need to compartmentalise.”

“I have to get three businesses signed to our company by the end of the week, hyung— _three!”_ Jisung complains, “I’m going to be dead on my feet by the time I get home tonight, and you know it. Helping me out will be out of the question by then.”

“We’re in your office, _Vice Chairman.”_

“In my locked, _sound-proof_ office with the blinds closed,” Jisung corrects. “I’m hardly asking to climb on top of the table with you and suck your dick at a company dinner, hyung. Everyone’s out for lunch right now, probably calling me cruel for keeping the diligent Section Chief Lee behind to go over boring financial plans. Plus,” he wheedles, playing with Minho’s subtly cat-patterned work tie (a Christmas gift from Jisung), “I work ten times more efficiently after getting off. It’s scientifically proven.”

“Pretty sure I’d remember a scientific study like that, Sungie,” Minho counters. But the teasing edge to his voice and the nicknames coming out show that his resolve is breaking down, and Jisung could jump for joy if that didn’t mean getting off his boyfriend’s lap. Jisung pulls at Minho's tie insistently, drawing him closer. Minho lets himself be tugged into a soft kiss without protest. He softens around the edges, like he always does at home, and Jisung knows that he’s won him over. “You want that genius brain of yours to stop for a little, right?” Minho asks, visibly relenting. He looks into Jisung’s eyes, and must see an inkling of the pressure his boyfriend is under at the moment. “Is that it, baby— is it all too loud right now?”

Eagerly, Jisung nods. Minho always understands him. “Need it so much, hyung,” he sighs, “My head feels like it’s about to fall off from stress. If Father told me the truth about how hard it is to run a company, I’d have fled to Europe, I swear. I could be running a small independent coffee shop in Prague right now. Imagine.”

“And I’d have come with you, you know that,” Minho indulges Jisung’s rambling, “But we both know you’re suited to this. Far more than that father of yours, too. You’ve seen the numbers. You’re this company’s saving grace, Sungie. This place would be lost without you.”

“As sexy as all the praise is, hyung,” Jisung replies, pressing a kiss to the corner of Minho’s mouth, “Let’s forget about work for a bit, hm?”

“How do you want it, baby?” Minho asks, remarkably accommodating in a way that makes Jisung want to swoon. “What’ll make your thoughts shut up for a bit?”

“Tell me, hyung…” Jisung muses, trailing off to bask in the way Minho looks up at him like someone precious, like he’d do _anything_ Jisung wanted him to. He cups Minho’s cheek, thumbing over the high arch of his cheekbone. “Has my Section Chief Lee ever thought about bending the Vice Chairman over his desk?”

Minho blushes. Barely, but enough to give him away. Jisung starts to giggle with delight, and Minho can’t seem to take the embarrassment because he hastily kisses him quiet. With Minho’s hand pulling roughly at his hair (thank _fuck_ Jisung keeps a mirror and spare hair product in his office), Minho holding him close and kissing him silly, Jisung already can’t think enough to tease him. Nobody else can so perfectly distract. He feels the stress seep from his body and dispel, and he falls lax in Minho’s grasp. Pliant. He'll do anything that Minho wants, now. 

Jisung, while indeed the saving grace of a company that his incompetent father had almost run into the ground, still gets overwhelmed by it all on some occasions. He sends his money rather than himself to company dinners the majority of the time, and though his employees speculate about what he must be getting up to and his 'glamorous lifestyle', all Jisung does is go home to his boyfriend and their five cats. They run a mildly famous, anonymous Instagram account for them and the little accessories Minho buys for them on Jisung’s card. Minho is the only reason Jisung has made it so far in one piece.

And _this._ This never fails to pull Jisung away from his worries, easing him back down to a liveable reality. Perhaps it’s crude to say that the venerable Vice Chairman Han needs the stress fucked out of him every now and then, but it’s the secret to his success. Minho is perfect, and Jisung needs him more than anyone could possibly know. They’re discreet. Even now, about to be very _Not Safe For Work_ in the Vice Chairman’s closed off office, Jisung has been careful not to compromise their work-life balance. Everyone is away, the door is locked, and they’ll be fine. The only person in Jisung's employ that knows about their relationship is his personal driver, who signed a NDA when he joined the company.

At last, Minho pulls back. A string of saliva connects their lips for a moment, before snapping and leaving a messy mark on Jisung’s face. Uncaring, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Minho’s hands move to his ass and squeeze. Jisung moans outright, breathy and loud. “Desk, honey?” Minho asks, smiling as Jisung struggles to speak. “C’mon, let's get you ready for hyung, yeah?”

Now _that,_ Jisung can get behind. Not that he’s the one _getting behind_ today, but still. He scrambles off Minho’s lap, and heads quickly over to his desk on wobbly legs. Somewhat like a faun that can’t quite walk yet, but hopefully still an attractive sight to his stupidly sexy boyfriend. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Minho slowly rising from the couch with a distinctly darkened expression. _Good._ Jisung wants Minho to want this as much as he himself does. That seems to be the case, luckily. “C’mon, hyung,” he urges, grabbing the necessary supplies he’d pre-packed from the inner pocket of his work satchel. “Your baby _needs_ you.”

Minho, looking amused by his boyfriend’s antics, walks across the room at an entirely unhurried speed just to spite him. “My baby can wait patiently, though, can’t he?” Minho asks, backing him into a metaphorical corner — if Jisung complains now, Minho will only draw it out more to curb his disobedience.

Jisung sighs. “Yes, hyung.” 

It’s the right answer— Minho reaches him at a slightly increased pace, and picks up the small travel-size bottle of lube Jisung has left out. He places his hand on the small of Jisung’s back then, pushing him closer towards his desk. “Get on with it, baby,” he says, softly commanding, “Don’t keep hyung waiting now.”

Hurriedly, Jisung shoves his ₩750,000 trousers down to his ankles. Minho takes initiative then, and pulls down Jisung’s briefs himself. Jisung leans down fully, resting his cheek against his desk while he waits for Minho to proceed. The air conditioned office suddenly feels a little too cold, now that his ass is bare, but Jisung doesn’t dare to complain about it. He’ll be plenty warmed up soon enough, anyway. 

Out of nowhere, the dry pad of Minho’s thumb presses against his exposed hole, a tease that makes Jisung gasp. He knows Minho wouldn’t ever put anything in him without lubrication, so it’s the unexpected touch that takes him off guard. There’s no mirror here, like there is at the end of their bed. Even on all fours, Minho behind him, Jisung is used to being able to see his boyfriend, asides from those occasions where his face gets pushed down against the mattress. “Please, hyung?” Jisung says, not too proud to beg from the outset when it comes to this, “Please, fuck it out of me already, hyung. I only want to think about you.”

Somewhere behind him, the lube is uncapped. There’s the wet sound of Minho warming it between his fingers, and then a finger pushes at Jisung’s hole. He relaxes, long used to this part, and it slides in easily. Minho tests the stretch, _in, out,_ a few times, and adds another. Jisung sucks him right in; it’s a familiar and reassuring feeling. “How are the stress levels now, _Vice Chairman?”_ Minho asks then, stressing the title. And that’s his _professional work voice._ Which would usually make sense in this room, sure, but it's not something that Minho has ever employed while two fingers deep in Jisung’s ass. Jisung supposes they don’t usually fuck in his office, either, to be fair. It’s a different environment, so it makes sense that Minho is being quite unpredictable. The closest thing to this that Jisung can think of is the time he went down on Minho in the communal bathroom at an important international conference. It’s _messing him up,_ hearing Minho talk to him like that while he works him open to be fucked over his desk. “Vice Chairman?” Minho prompts again, the smug edge to his tone showing he knows _exactly_ the effect his feigned professionalism is having on his boyfriend. “Are you feeling relaxed?”

That’s a difficult question for Jisung to answer. He’s not stressed about his work right now. That much is true. But he also wouldn’t call himself _relaxed,_ because his boyfriend is working a third finger into his ass while coolly keeping up his detached work persona, and Jisung has not been this degree of irrevocably turned on in a while. “Not yet,” Jisung replies, voice shaking a quite frankly embarrassing amount. Jisung _likes_ it when Minho embarrasses him, though, and they both know that well. “You should _relax_ me some more, Section Chief Lee. I need to get back to my work soon, after all.”

His words are part of the fantasy, yes, but they also double as a less-than-subtle reminder that people will come looking for the Vice Chairman after their lunch breaks conclude in twenty minutes or so. The busy day that has led to Jisung needing stress relief in the first place isn’t going to slow down just because he’s getting fucked in his locked office. They need to hurry up, or the esteemed Vice Chairman Han could be caught with his pants around his ankles.

They won’t _actually_ be walked in on. Jisung knows that. He’s taken the appropriate precautions, and anyone trying to find him will have to get past both the barrier of Secretary Yang and a locked office door. Still, his dick throbs between his legs at the thought of such humiliation. 

“What has you shivering so much, Sungie?” Minho tuts, pulling his fingers free at last. Jisung hears him slick up his cock, and then sees Minho wipe his hands on the pocket square Jisung keeps in his suit jacket, currently draped over the corner of the desk. He tucks it back in perfectly refolded, leaving the clean section poking out. Jisung will walk around with a lube-soaked piece of silk in his pocket for the rest of the day, and none of the other employees will be any the wiser. “Won’t you tell me, _sir?”_ It’s laughable, hearing Minho say that, like Jisung holds any of the cards right now. Like he has a fraction of control. 

“I thought about someone walking in and seeing us like this,” Jisung admits. “It would be so embarrassing, wouldn’t it, hyung?”

“Not for _me,_ princess,” Minho replies, sinking in to the hilt without even a hitch of breath to show it. Jisung cries out. He imagines that the office isn’t sound-proof. Imagines everyone hearing him as he bends over and takes it. Imagines the whispers, the _stares_ he would get afterwards. He moans louder, just thinking about it. A deep blush rises hot on his cheeks, and he squirms against the desk. Minho pushes up Jisung's shirt and splays a hand on his bare back, holding him down. 

“Hyung, _please,”_ Jisung begs, cock weeping onto the hardwood floor beneath him. He can hear it, the wet dripping overexaggerated in his arousal clouded mind. He imagines it so loud that everyone else can hear it too and _know._ Minho wraps his free hand around him, and generously lets Jisung fuck pathetically into his fist for a few moments before drawing it away. Jisung sobs at the loss. Moans _hyung, hyung, hyung,_ but gets no more.

“Why should _I_ be the one to be embarrassed, darling?” Minho asks then, gently rocking against him to double check that Jisung is ready for it. Jisung _is,_ and babbles nineteen-to-the-dozen to show it. Minho kisses the back of his neck. Jisung wishes he’d bite down and leave a mark for the world to see. “Why should I,” Minho repeats with careful emphasis, beginning to fuck him harder now to the tune of Jisung whimpering _thankyouthankyouthankyou,_ “when _you’re_ the one bent over like a slut, hm? Not me — I'm just the one who can't resist how pretty you look like this. Nobody could blame me for that. They’d just be jealous that I got to their lovely Vice Chairman first before anyone else could have the chance. Because you're _mine.”_

_“Ah!”_ Jisung cries out, voice cracking as he imagines _that_ specifically. Someone _(several_ someones, even) walking in on this sight, and Minho calmly keeping it up, continuing to drive his cock into Jisung unashamed. Blank faced, professional. Jisung unable to do anything but take it, moaning under his subordinate even with their co-workers staring on. Jisung _drips,_ and _drips._ He _takes_ and _takes._ Minho fucks into him, careful and steady, hands holding Jisung still. It's just a little bit harsh, now. Minho is getting ever-so-slightly rougher with him, but Jisung needs it _all._ He’s so close already. “Fuck, _hyung,_ please. Harder, hyung, need it so much, _please,_ hyung!” 

The only sign that Minho is affected too is the tightening of his hands on Jisung’s hips. “Is that what the Vice Chairman needs, _sir?”_ he asks, a perfect mask of calm even as their skin slaps together _loud_ and dirty. Minho’s fucking him like he means it now, though his work voice is a stark juxtaposition at present. “Will you be able to get back to your work after this, baby, once hyung’s helped you out?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” Jisung promises, over and over. It isn’t a lie— after being so ruined, he’ll be floating on air for the rest of the day, so blissed out that stress won’t dare creep in. The paperwork and meetings will be a breeze when he’s relaxed to such a wonderful degree. He might even get off work early enough to curl up in his boyfriend’s arms and order take out. The thought is tantalising. “God, hyung, please let me come. Please, hyung, pl-”

Minho wraps a hand around the head of Jisung’s cock, poised to catch his mess. “You can come now, angel, don’t worry,” he murmurs, lips close to Jisung’s ear. It’s _his_ voice now, the sweet tone that only Jisung is allowed to hear. In private, when they’re back at home, and _now,_ for a brief moment. Minho is in love with Jisung, has been in love with him for years, and does not hide it when he speaks like this. “Let go, baby. I’m here.”

It’s _that_ tonal shift, more than the dirty words and semi-roleplay, that fuels an orgasm that rips through Jisung with an almost painful force. He sags in his lover’s hold, slumping down against his desk, and pants through it as he comes into Minho’s waiting hand. There’s the sound of Minho licking it from his fingers, more for convenience than added fuel for desire, and then he carefully pulls out, tying the condom and burying it beneath a pile of balled up papers in Jisung’s waste bin. He must have come with Jisung, who had been too busy whiting out to notice, because it’s filled up when he discards it.

Jisung blinks at him, still a little hazy in the aftermath. Minho has turned him round now after cleaning the excess lube from his ass with a wet-wipe, and helps him stand as he tucks him back into his briefs, pulling his trousers up soon after. Thinking of everything, he even grabs a tissue and clears up the cooling mess of precum on the floor. “Are you okay, baby?” Minho asks, not a hint of professionalism in his voice. Still _him,_ for a moment longer.

Jisung grabs Minho by the tie once more and kisses him, chaste and sweet. “Thank you, hyung,” he replies, earnest as can be. He feels himself _beam,_ wide and toothy, the sort of smile he never allows himself when he’s at work. Minho mirrors it in turn. It’s not like anyone can see with the blinds still closed. Today is a lapse from the norm for them both. “Really, thank you. I feel so much better now.”

It’s true. The tension that had been crawling right up into his shoulders is now a dull fizzle, somewhere distant and ineffective. Jisung’s day feels considerably less daunting, as a result. Jisung loves Minho so much.

“This can’t be the go-to every time you get overwhelmed, ‘Sung,” Minho warns him, though with little weight to his words. He’s still smiling back at him. He loves Jisung too, and it shows in his expression. “I was pretty stressed myself, though, to be honest. The boss’ mood tends to affect everyone, even if you don’t mean it to.”

Jisung laughs, sheepish, and straightens Minho’s suit up so it looks a little less just-fucked-the-Vice-Chairman. He’s right— Minho does look more relaxed now than before. “Guess you’ve done an act of public service then, huh?”

“Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.” Minho winks, and goes to gather up his untouched papers before walking to Jisung’s office door. He unlocks it, and Jisung hurries to sit back in his office chair, hurriedly running a hand through his hair lest anyone peek in the open doorway. “It’s been a _pleasure,_ Vice Chairman.”

— ♡ ♡ ♡ —

Five minutes later, Jisung’s personal phone buzzes with a series of texts in quick succession.

**_Soulmate:_ ** _good luck with your work, baby!!!_

**_Soulmate:_ ** _you’ve got this!!!!_

**_Soulmate:_ ** _i believe in you~~~_

**_Soulmate:_ ** _i’m going to go and ACTUALLY do the finance reports now_

**_Soulmate:_ ** _i’ll wait up when i'm done at the company, so no pushing yourself until the early hours of the morning again!!! that’s an order!_

**_Soulmate:_ ** _see you at home <3 _

**_Soulmate:_** _i love you._

In a moment, Jisung will take out the paperwork and get back to his tasks with renewed vigour, speeding through them at an inhuman pace. Efficiency personified, both for the company’s benefit and for the promise of Minho waiting for him at home. For a moment, though, he smiles. Soft and in love, with his phone held close to his chest. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/scbaes)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/scbaes)
> 
> i hope you liked this :') Please tell me what you think!!! Comments fuel my soul <3


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